


Playing the Part

by BlueMinuet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x06 AU, Gen, friendship shenanigans, vague references to Pepsi Max commercials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel finally makes a friend while working at the Gas & Sip. He just doesn’t realize his friend owns a few pairs of wings.</p><p>
  <i>Gabriel’s instinct was to march right up to the angel—former angel—and demand to know what happened. Or, more to the point, what the Winchesters did, because Gabriel would bet his third left wing that they had their massive hands in this one way or another. But he didn’t march over there at all. Instead he weighed the pros and cons of buying red or black licorice.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing the Part

**Author's Note:**

> This is set somewhere after 9x06, and I guess it goes a bit AU for everything after that.
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely editor, WingSongHalo, helping me with my first foray into SPN fanfiction, and encouraging my wish to write more Gabriel and Castiel friendship shenanigans.

It took Gabriel a long minute to recognize the guy behind the counter at his latest delivery stop. He had to tilt his head to the side and squint to try to figure out where he fit into the long stretch of his memory. It wasn’t until he imagined him wrapped in a dusty trenchcoat with his mouth duct taped shut that he finally remembered him as Castiel’s vessel.

Luckily, he figured all that out before stepping into the shop. Just to be careful, he decided to use some of his weakened power to glamor himself to look different than he had back when he encountered Cas. Nothing too fancy; if asked, anyone who saw him with this disguise would still describe him as brown-eyed, honey blond, and slightly missing the mark of tall. It was a shame too, because he’d called in no less than two favors to get his old body back. 

He completed his delivery, asking “Steve” where the soda was supposed to go, and stuck around a few minutes under the pretense of picking out snacks for the road. Watching the sales associate, Gabriel realized a few things. First of all, that wasn’t Castiel’s vessel; it was Castiel, in all his awkward glory. Secondly, there wasn’t a drop of Grace in him. That made Gabriel bristle slightly. His instinct was to march right up to the angel—former angel—and demand to know what happened. Or, more to the point, what the Winchesters did, because Gabriel would bet his third left wing that they had their massive hands in this one way or another.

But he didn’t march over there at all. Instead he weighed the pros and cons of buying red or black licorice. (Buying candy? With money he’d earned? Dear Father, the things being mostly killed had reduced him to. It was enough to make the weakened archangel feel light-headed.) He’d spent a long time being more or less dead; it’d taken even longer to build up the strength to string together conscious thoughts, much less gain enough power to take a vessel. He was nowhere near back to his old glory, and he definitely wasn’t ready to jump back into angel politics again.

As he studied Cas, he also realized that none of this was an act. He was actually working. He was actually playing human. There were no Impalas or giants around, so Gabriel assumed the Winchesters weren’t looking after him. As Gabriel continued to watch he realized that the last thing Cas needed was another feathery asshole brother pestering him. He needed a friend. A human friend.

Gabriel decided on the red licorice.

* * *

“High five, Steve.”

The sheer glee on Castiel’s face as he slapped Gabriel’s hand was enough to give the average human diabetes. But Gabriel was, luckily, still not the average human.

After their hands struck each other, Gabriel snapped. It was enough to throw Cas into confusion, and Gabriel had to admit that he found that nearly as amusing as the former glee. Castiel snapped as well, mimicking Gabriel, and smiled when Gabriel nodded, as if he’d just learned a new human custom.

Gabriel might have felt bad about it, but he was sure Castiel was probably never going to master a completely normal high five anyway.

“How have you been, Barry?”

Gabriel smirked. “Pretty good,” he said. “Average day, you know. Ran into the Coke delivery guy again. What a tool. Like, who actually gives this much of a crap about which soda company they work for?”

Castiel nodded politely, following Gabriel as he made his way to the stock room. He’d been delivering to this store pretty regularly now, so much so that he didn’t need Castiel to tell him where the soda went. But Cas still followed him, drinking in the attention.

“How about you, Steve? How’s your day going?”

It wasn’t long ago that Castiel would have answered that question with a very long cataloging of everything that happened since the store had opened that day. Gabriel felt he’d done a public service by tutoring him in the art of small talk.

“It’s going well,” Castiel said. “It has been a slow day. Not very many customers.”

“Working alone today?”

Castiel nodded. “For another hour and a half. It’s alright, though. I’m accustomed enough with the operation of the store that I can handle things well without assistance.”

Gabriel finished shoving soda boxes off of his dolly. He brushed past Cas who closed the stock room door and headed back towards the register. Gabriel parked his dolly at the front of the store. There really was no one in the store, and the grey storm clouds outside suggested that most people with sense would probably be staying indoors today.

“Bet it’s boring though,” Gabriel said, leaning back on the counter.

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. He grabbed a candy bar and jumped up to sit on the counter. He thrust Cas some money before ripping the wrapper open.

“That sounds like a cry for help if I’ve ever heard one,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t—”

“How’d you hurt your hand?” Gabriel asked, cutting him off. He’d noticed the hand brace earlier, but wasn’t sure if he should mention it.

Cas frowned. “It’s a long story.”

“Good. I’ve got a while before I have to be at my next delivery.”

Gabriel tried not to look too amused by Castiel’s troubled look. He was clearly trying to find a way out.

“It is also very boring,” Cas said.

“Alright,” Gabriel said. “You don’t have to tell me. Hey, wanna hear a funny story about how I broke my leg one time?” Strictly speaking, the story wasn’t about Gabriel breaking his leg, but someone’s leg got broken and it was a fun story, and Gabriel assumed that was the important part.

Castiel slowly nodded and Gabriel happily launched into the story as he tore into his chocolate bar.

* * *

“Wait, so then your business partner just up and told you that you can’t stay?”

It had taken quite a while for Castiel to open up and begin telling “Barry” about himself. Of course, it was nothing but lies, but Gabriel didn’t mind. Gabriel could read between the lines, and sometimes lies were easier to pick through anyway.

In this case, he knew that he should probably punch Dean Winchester next time he saw him. 

Castiel nodded.

“Oh well,” Gabriel said. “He sounds like an asshole anyway.”

“He is not,” Castiel muttered.

Gabriel smirked. “Defensive much?”

“What?”

“Look, I know you’re quite fond of this ‘business partner’.” Gabriel knew Castiel was still a bit hit and miss when it came to subtlety, so he did him a favor by both enclosing the phrase in air quotes and elongating the syllables meaningfully. “But if he kicked you out on your ass, right after you lost your job and ended up homeless, he’s really no saint. You know?”

“The situation was complicated,” Castiel said, though he seemed a bit conflicted about exactly how so. “And what do you mean when you say ‘business partner’ like that?”

“I just mean that I totally believe you were ‘partners’ but I’m a bit dubious about what your ‘business’ was.”

“Pest control,” Castiel said, very quickly, as if Gabriel would suddenly accuse him of being an angel if he said it any slower.

“No,” Gabriel sighed. “I was insinuating that I think you have a big homo crush on him.”

“Oh.” Castiel turned away from Gabriel at that, pretending to straighten a shelf of candy.

Gabriel smirked. “What? No comment?”

Castiel didn’t turn around, but Gabriel was pretty sure his ears were turning a brighter shade of red.

* * *

Gabriel had thought about this quite a bit. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to go through with what he was thinking though. It was disgustingly altruistic, and the idea of that made his skin crawl.

But it didn’t take a genius to realize that Castiel was sleeping in the stock room (Gabriel held a low opinion of Castiel’s boss.) and, even if it was inexcusably selfless, he felt like maybe someone should do something about that. And maybe, as someone who knew how hard it could be to get used to interacting with humans, that someone should be him.

“Hey, Steve,” Gabriel said, parking his now empty dolly by the door. “Before I take off, I was wondering if you had a place in here where people can hang flyers?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Umm. Maybe. I’d have to ask my manager. Why?”

“Well, see,” Gabriel pulled a handful of flyers out of his jacket. “The rent at my place just got jacked up, and I mean, hey, I’m a delivery guy. Not exactly rolling in dough. But I love my apartment, and I do have an extra room, so I’m trying to find a roommate. Someone that can go halfsies on the rent with me.”

Castiel took the flyers a bit too quickly, his eyes widening. “How much is the rent?”

“Wait a minute, Stevie,” Gabriel said with a wicked grin. “Are you telling me you’re interested? Looking for a place to live?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Castiel said. “I don’t make very much money, but I’m sure I could help if we’re splitting it. And I believe I would make a good roommate. I do not take up much space, and—”

Gabriel waved dismissively, and made a show out of ripping the flyers out of Cas’s hands and shoving them into the garbage. “No need to try to sell yourself, my friend. You’re in.”

“I am?”

“Of course!” Gabriel said. He let himself behind the counter and wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders, pulling the taller man down in the pseudo-hug. “It’s perfect,” Gabriel continued. “You and me. You’ll be the straight man to my oddball. Well, straight man for varying definitions of the word, but luckily I’m not picky.”

Castiel smiled awkwardly. “I don’t understand…”

Gabriel let go of him, letting him stand up straight again. “Exactly. That’s why it’s perfect. Alright, so when you get off work I’ll pick you up and you can come check out the apartment. See if you like it. And we’ll figure out a good time to move your stuff in.”

“I, um… I don’t actually have… stuff.”

Gabriel pretended to look shocked for a moment before returning to his normal disposition. “Perfect. Moving in will be a breeze. And you know what? Instead, we can go shopping for stuff. That’s way more fun!”

“I suppose…”

“So, when am I picking you up?”

Castiel seemed to still be reeling over how easy this was. “Um… I get off at seven.”

Gabriel winked. “See you then, roomie.”

* * *

Gabriel stopped hanging around and bugging Cas at work as much now that they were living in the same apartment. Not that he disliked being around him now, but he figured the less he had to keep using energy to change his appearance, the better. Also, he figured it was only a matter of time before Cas got tired of Gabriel’s torment and teasing and realized he could probably do better as far as friends go.

But he couldn't help but stop on his way out one day when he noticed that Cas was staring out the window with a look like someone out there was beating his childhood puppy to death.

Gabriel followed his gaze to see a black Impala being fueled up. Suddenly he completely understood, but that was no reason to act like it.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Nothing.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. Someone really needed to teach Castiel to lie better.

“Come on, Stevie. What’s going on? Who’s that guy over there?”

Castiel somehow managed to peel his eyes away from the back of Dean Winchester’s head. “Nobody.”

Gabriel smirked. “Wait a minute. Is that your… ‘business partner’?”

Castiel glared at him, but didn’t say no.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Barry, please don’t do anything,” Cas said quickly.

“Come on! We have to!”

“No, we don’t.”

Gabriel saw Dean looking into the store out of the corner of his eye. “Yes! Hey, I know. We should make him think we’re dating!”

Castiel look quickly switched to confusion. “Why?”

“So, he’ll be jealous,” Gabriel said. “Come on, he’s walking here. Let’s do this.”

“Wait, Barry, no!”

It was too late. Dean was already walking through the door. Gabriel leaned over the counter to invade Cas’s personal space.

“So, I’ll see you tonight right?” Gabriel asked, laying a hand on Cas’s arm and running it down towards his hand slowly.

“Yes, of course, I—”

“Then I’ll see you at eight,” Gabriel said. He swirled his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand, and very slowly eased back. He turned to shoot a glance at Dean, faking an ounce of surprise that someone was watching them. Dean’s face was etched with confusion, and Gabriel would have given an entire paycheck to print out that face for later blackmail. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll let you get back to work, Stevie. I’ll just finish setting up that that display.”

Gabriel slinked away, and he caught Castiel rolling his eyes as he did. It was hard to hold back his laughter at the ensuing conversation. Dean barking a demand to know who Gabriel was, as if he thought somehow he wouldn’t overhear. Castiel was having a hard time getting a word in edgewise. Gabriel heard him trying to spit out the word ‘roommate’ but Dean was apparently a bit too shaken to hear it.

Gabriel decided to put the final nail in as he was leaving.

“Bye, Steve,” he said leaning on the door. “By the way. Your friend is cute. He can come too.” He winked, and slid out of the door.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean bellowed, and Gabriel was lucky to hold in his laughter until he got back to his delivery truck.

* * *

Although the popular belief was that angels were supposed to be all about forgiveness, Castiel was one of the only ones Gabriel could really name off-hand that was good at it. He didn’t hold a grudge about Gabriel messing with Dean, and after much prodding he even admitted that it was amusing.

He also opened up and revealed that Dean had only been passing through because he’d taken a job a few towns over (the endlessly exciting life of “pest control”) and him stopping by had nothing to do with checking up on Castiel. Which Gabriel would have liked to have called bullshit on, but he decided that he had been faking too much ignorance to make it believable.

Gabriel handed Castiel a cold beer before jumping onto the couch, making the whole thing wobble. Cas seemed hardly phased by the incident, as unflappable as always.

“So, what should we watch tonight, roomie?” Gabriel asked, diving for the remote. “I know you don’t like sports too much… Hey, let’s watch a really bad movie! Have you seen _Octo-Shark_?”

“Barry,” Cas said. “Have you ever felt like… like you’re supposed to be doing something else?”

For all of Gabriel’s trying, Castiel still wasn’t good at timing or segues. “Like when you’ve picked up this really hot chick, but you think maybe you should have gone with her sister instead? Or brother?”

“Barry, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Sometimes it’s a hard choice!” 

Castiel frowned.

“What?” Gabriel asked. “Getting an early start on a midlife crisis?”

Castiel shook his head. Gabriel was fully prepared for him to ask what a midlife crisis was, but he didn’t. “I just feel like… There’s something I feel like I should be doing. Something important. More important than… than what I’m doing now.”

“Like a holy calling?” It wasn’t often that Gabriel—or Barry, for that matter—stopped being flippant long enough to cut to the chase like that, and apparently it shocked Cas a little. But not enough to stop him from going on.

“Yes. Exactly, actually.”

“I felt like that once,” Gabriel said.

Castiel looked at the ground. “I doubt that.”

“No really,” Gabriel said, waving his hands to draw his attention back. “Back when I was younger I had this job. I was in litigation, if you can believe it. You might say that I was a real judgmental prick.” Cas raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t say anything. “Anyway, it was a family business, you know? And I dunno, I think I enjoyed it, at one point. Or maybe I just thought I did. But then everything went south when my two idiot brothers started fighting.”

“I can relate to that,” Castiel muttered, and Gabriel had to choke back a laugh at just how much he could. “So, what happened?”

“Well, it wasn’t my fault, but part of me really felt like I should get involved. Direct all that judgmental asshole mojo at them and pick the right side. Try to bring the fighting to an end. But, on the other hand. I didn’t want to, because they were my brothers.”

Castiel nodded. “So, you felt like it was your calling to decide on who was right?”

“Yep.”

“And so you answered the call to bring peace for the good of everyone,” Castiel said.

“Hell no,” Gabriel said. Castiel’s eyes widened a bit, and Gabriel continued. “I turned tail and ran so fast that I’m shocked I didn’t get whiplash.”

Cas’s eyebrows knit together. “So… what are you trying to tell me?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Well, see. I had a great time. I mean, the best. I lived. I loved. I partied. Hell, I met Snoop Dogg.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Gabriel said. “The point is, it may have been selfish, but it was the right choice. Jumping into the fighting right away wouldn’t have solved anything. So instead, I lived life to the fullest and became the amazing individual you now call a roommate.”

Castiel frowned. “But what about your brothers?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Well, they didn’t stop fighting, and eventually I was dragged back into the fight.”

“So, doesn’t that mean you should have just confronted the problem in the first place?” Cas asked, seeming to get a bit exasperated.

“No, see,” Gabriel paused, trying to figure out the right words for this. English was so hard to articulate finer points in, and he sort of wished he could just tap Cas’s forehead and give him the point right away. “Back when the fighting started, I wasn’t ready. If I had stepped in, I probably would have just made a bigger mess. But I stepped away for a while, and when I came back—dragged in, kicking and screaming, I might add—I knew better than to play their game. I took my own side. I stood up for myself.”

“And how did that end?”

Gabriel frowned. Cas was good at cutting to the quick. “Badly. But if I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing. That’s the thing about callings or whatever. Sometimes you feel them way before you’re ready to act on them. Now, I don’t know what it is you think you have to do, but if you ask me, it seems like you’ve had some rough times recently. So, my advice is spend some time taking care of yourself. Live a little. Get back on your feet. And when you’re ready, that holy calling will probably drag you in whether you like it or not.”

Castiel was silent for a moment. He spent a while staring at the bottle of beer that Gabriel had handed him earlier before awkwardly wrenching the top off. He sipped it before saying, “I’m fairly certain that that advice is awful.”

Gabriel laughed. “Take it or leave it.”

* * *

Ultimately, altruism was rather taxing on Gabriel, so he did his best to average it out by stirring the pot every so often. So, when he read about mysterious disappearances two towns over that sounded like your typical wendigo attack, Gabriel suggested that he and Cas hit up a bar. Sure, Gabriel knew that there were more than two hunters in America, but he’d eat his own pinion feathers if Dean Winchester didn’t show up for a job this close to his favorite ex-angel.

He took his best guess at the most Winchester-y dive motel in town, and then picked the closest dive bar to that, and sure enough there was a black Impala parked in the lot. Gabriel steered his clunker to the other side of the parking lot and kept Cas too distracted with conversation to notice the very distinctive car.

“I don’t understand the point of this,” Cas muttered for the umpteenth time since Gabriel had all but shoved him in the car.

Gabriel took him by the shoulders as they stood in front of the bar’s door. “Listen, Steve-o. I love you. Like a brother. But, kid, you gotta get out of the apartment. Get a date, damn it. So, put on your big boy pants, cuz you’re gonna pick up a girl. Or a guy. I really don’t care."

Castiel huffed as he followed Gabriel into the bar. “I don’t know…”

“Look, just be confidant,” Gabriel said. “Be yourself. Just have some fun.” Gabriel slid onto the nearest barstool, and spun around to face Cas. “You can even take them back to the apartment. Just hang a sock on the doorknob if you’re getting lucky and don’t want me to come in. And please don’t do it on my couch. Oh, and if you use the chocolate sauce or the whipped cream, you’re buying me new ones…”

“I…” Castiel’s comment was lost as he stared off at something on the other side of the room. Gabriel knew he wouldn’t be surprised when he turned and saw Dean flirting with his waitress.

“And the business partner returns.” He turned back to Cas. “Hey, you said his job takes him all over the country right? Why do you think he always ends up here?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel muttered. “Maybe… Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“Steve, don’t make me pull the stick out of your ass and beat you with it.” Gabriel grabbed him and forced him to sit on the stool next to him. He took a moment to order drinks for both of them before turning back to Cas, who was giving him the look of a dying man begging to but put out of his misery. “Wipe that look off your face,” Gabriel ordered. “Just because he’s here doesn’t mean anything. I mean, granted, I can see why you're attracted to him…"

“Barry, I'm not—” 

“By the way, does he have a brother?”

Castiel's eyes widened. “No. I mean, yes, he does, but I don't think you should...”

“Relax. I was joking,” Gabriel said. “Look. Just ignore him. Have fun.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Shush,” Gabriel said. “Look over there.” He gestured to a woman a few tables over, sipping a drink silently while trying to look small. “Now, I’m no expert, but she looks like she probably doesn’t want to be here any more than you do. Probably got dragged here by someone with a similar disposition to yours truly. So why don’t you pretend like your ex-boyfriend isn’t here and go bond with her over your introverted tendencies?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. “Wait. Are you… suggesting I play ‘hard to get’?”

Gabriel patted him on the back. “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

“You didn’t say no.”

Gabriel nodded. “That I didn’t.”

The bartender placed two drinks down in front of them: a draft beer and something altogether too fruity.

“Now, take both of these,” Gabriel said, pushing them both to Cas, “give her the pretty one with the umbrella in it, and ask if you can keep her company.”

Castiel still looked worried. “You’re not suggesting I lead her on, are you?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I said bring her a drink, I didn’t say fuck her on the table while that Dean guy watches. If you just wanna be friends with her, you can tell her that. Maybe lead with that. Or work it in casually. Or just blurt it out awkwardly. You’re cute when you have no idea what to say, so you can pull it off.”

“I…”

Gabriel glared at him. “Go, or I’ll push you.”

Castiel looked a bit hurt at that. Gabriel guessed he touched a nerve. He’d apologize about it later. But Castiel did as he was told and Gabriel smiled.

The waitress Dean had been flirting with leaned over the bar in front of Gabriel. Her dark lips twisted in a warm smile as she tucked a lock of ebony hair behind her ear. “Well, you seem to be suddenly lacking a drink.”

Gabriel smirked at her. “The sacrifices I make for those close to me. I'm gonna need another one of those,” he said, gesturing to the drink Cas was handing to the now-smiling wallflower.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said with a wink, a twinkle in her chestnut eyes.

That was when he realized something different about her. It was almost a tickle to his senses, but definitely there. The small tug of Grace.

He stared at her, tilting his head to the side. Doing so must have tipped her off, because she stared back at him with the same look.

Realization dawned. “Astrophel?” Gabriel asked. He remembered the cherub well; they'd been friends, albeit more than a millennia ago.

She narrowed her eyes. “Believe it or not, I’m not really rolling with that name. Not very human-y.” 

“It is you, isn’t it?” Gabriel persisted.

“Depends who's asking?” she shot back at him. “Bartholomew didn't send you, did he?”

“Bartholomew?” Gabriel spat. “Why would Barty be ordering anyone to do anything?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who else would send an angel? He's in charge now.”

Gabriel sputtered. “What? Who died and made him king?”

“Naomi,” she said simply.

Gabriel stared in shock. “Wow. What? I have been dead way too long.”

“Anyway, call me Jaime.” She leaned in to give Gabriel a long look. After a long minute her eyes widened. “Wait. Are you... Gab—”

“Shush!” Gabriel tapped a finger to his lips. “Gabriel is dead,” he said with a wink. “Especially to anyone who might be taking orders from Barty.”

“Good thing I'm not then,” Jaime said with a wink. 

“Skipped out, huh?”

The cherub nodded. “To be honest, ever since the apocalypse I was looking for an out. I mean, centuries of matching up humans, and then suddenly there was no script and it was all free styling. I guess the freedom brought out my rebellious streak.”

“It tends to do that,” Gabriel agreed with a nod.

“So, after the fall, I snagged a vessel and skipped out.”

Gabriel frowned. “Yeah, I might need you to educate me a bit more on this whole ‘fall’ business.”

Jaime cocked her head to the side at that. “Why? Hasn't Castiel told you? I couldn't help but notice him here.”

Gabriel glanced over at Cas, who seemed to be getting along well with the girl Gabriel had pointed out. He also noticed Dean in the background, silently watching the two, so Gabriel was hoping there might be some entertaining sparks soon.

“Let's just say that Castiel is unaware that I possess a pair or twelve of wings, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Jaime nodded. “The less he knows the better, probably. I mean with the price on his head...”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at that. 

“Don’t worry,” Jaime quickly added. “I’d never turn him in. Like I said, I’m kind of staying out of everything right now.”

Gabriel nodded. “I’m a lot less surprised about him having a price on his head than I should be.”

Jaime finally placed a fruity drink in front of him, and Gabriel took a greedy sip from it.

“By the way,” Gabriel said, “mazel tov on the vessel, Jay. It looks great.”

“Thanks,” Jaime said, smoothing her shirt and tugging it back down over her wide hips. “I like female vessels. Very curvy and soft.”

“I bet it is,” Gabriel said, waggling his eyebrows. “If you like, I could peer review that assertion for you when you get off work.”

“Actually, I... Well, I had other plans for when I got off of work.”

Gabriel followed her eyes over to Dean Winchester, who was now slowly approaching Castiel and his new friend, as if the situation was a time bomb. Which, for the sake of entertainment, Gabriel was sort of hoping it was.

A cherub planning on sleeping with Dean was not part of his plan. “Oh no. No no no.”

Jaime smirked. “Oh, yes.”

Gabriel frowned. “No, Jay. Don't do it.”

“And why not?” Jaime asked, hitching an arm on her hip. 

“Look, there are rules of etiquette when you have a vessel, and somewhere in the Top Five is ‘Don’t Have Sex With A Winchester’.”

Jaime only rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious,” Gabriel said. “I mean, I get it. Really, I do. They’re gorgeous men, both of them. And they’re probably proportional, so big win for size queens. But I’m pretty sure the leading causes of death in America are: One, Obesity, and Two, Sleeping with a Winchester. I mean, the bigger one is the most likely to get you killed, but Dean-o’s record isn't all that great either. He slept with Anael, and you heard what happened to her, right?”

Jaime rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure sleeping with Dean Winchester had nothing to do with Michael smiting her.”

“It was obliquely related,” Gabriel said, gesturing wildly. “Besides, it’s not doing the do that kills you. The point is that ending up on a Winchester’s ‘Have Done’ List puts you on Uncle Death’s ‘To Do’ List, and not in a sexy way. And thank Father, can you imagine...” Gabriel went quiet for a moment. “Oh Dear Father, now I can't stop imagining Uncle Death having sex. This is awful. I need to be drunk immediately.”

Jaime wore a pitying grimace as she grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured a bit more into Gabriel’s drink.

“I’m not sure what's worse,” Gabriel said. “The prospect that Uncle Death may have had sex at some point, or the idea that he might be a 30 trillion year old virgin.”

“Shut up and drink,” Jaime said.

Gabriel obliged.

Jaime frowned. “Well, like it or not, I might have to pass on the Winchester hook-up anyway.”

Gabriel looked back over at Castiel, amused to find that apparently Dean had finally made it to Castiel’s table. The hunter was wearing a forced smile that seemed to beg for someone to smite him, Cas looked slightly hurt, and Castiel’s new lady friend seemed to be just plain confused.

Gabriel shook his head. “I should warn you: Castiel wants him so bad, I think I’m actually physically in pain by proxy.”

Jaime rolled her eyes. “Show me a single angel that doesn't know about Castiel’s crush on the Righteous Man, and I'll show you an angel that's brain dead.”

“Bite me, Jay.”

“Stick around after my shift. I just might.” 

Gabriel smiled, looking back over her body. “I knew there was a reason I liked cherubs. Kinky bastards.”

Jaime shushed him. “Incoming.” 

Gabriel didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on before Dean leaned onto the bar. 

“Hey, uh. What time did you say you were getting off?” Dean asked Jaime, a forced smirk on his face. 

“Eleven,” Jaime said slowly. 

Dean nodded, glancing down at his watch. “Right. Um… Can I get a whiskey double?” 

Jaime began pouring and Gabriel whistled. “Rough night, kiddo?” 

Dean glanced over at him. “Oh, hey, you’re…” 

“Steve’s roommate,” Gabriel said, holding out his hand. “They call me Barry.”

Dean shook his hand. “I’m—”

“Dean,” Gabriel finished for him. “I’ve heard of you.”

Dean paused at that. “Heard of me?” 

Gabriel bit his lip, nodding. “Yup.” 

Dean leaned away slightly at that, eyeing Gabriel. “Good things?”

Gabriel smirked. “Things.” 

Dean looked visibly shaken. Luckily for him, Castiel showed up to save him. He inserted himself between Dean and Gabriel, and even the archangel found himself uncomfortable between the proximity and the piercing gaze Castiel set on Dean. 

“Dean, if you’d like to go somewhere else to… discuss things. I’m alright with leaving now,” Castiel said. 

Dean frowned. “You sure your friend doesn’t mind?”

It took everything Gabriel had not to laugh at the tone Dean used on the word ‘friend.’

“I explained things to her,” Castiel said. “Also, I have her number, so we can keep in touch.” Castiel waved a cocktail napkin with the girl’s number on it. 

Gabriel couldn’t choke back his laugh, seeing Castiel’s pride at having gotten a number and Dean’s surprise. Dean glared at him and Castiel sent him a confused glance. 

“Alright, let’s go, Ca—Steve,” Dean said. He knocked back his whiskey, and led Cas to the door. 

“Remember,” Gabriel shouted after them. “Sock on the door!” 

Gabriel was pretty sure Dean made a rude gesture at that. 

Jaime shook her head. “So close.” 

Gabriel shrugged. “I’m still here.” 

Jaime glared at him. “Keep drinking, _Barry_.”

* * *

Returning home in the morning, Gabriel had been hoping that if Dean Winchester would be there, he could least have the decency to be there in an incriminating position for the blackmail photos. Unfortunately, he was just passed out on the couch. Castiel was also on the couch, but they were curled up on opposite ends. No inappropriate touching whatsoever. 

Gabriel tried to make the best of it by whipping out his cellphone and snapping a few pictures of Dean drooling on his upholstery. It was better than nothing. Having done that he quietly dug his megaphone out of the closet, turned up his sound system to volumes generally inaccessible to mere mortals, and began the best wake-up call he could orchestrate on short notice. 

Seeing the two of them jump out of their skins the minute he pressed play was more than enough to make up for the lost blackmail opportunity. 

“GOOD MORNING, CAMPERS,” Gabriel shouted through the megaphone. “STEVE, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT NOT ON MY COUCH?”

Gabriel could see both of them shouting at him, but he couldn’t hear a word of it. He was certain Castiel said something about noise complaints. True, it would be a miracle if they didn’t get the cops called on them. Luckily, Gabriel was feeling well enough to pull off such a feat. 

Gabriel flipped off the stereo. “Sorry, what? Couldn’t hear you there, roomie.” 

Castiel heaved a sigh as Dean buried his face in his palms. 

“Barry…” Castiel began. 

“Who wants pancakes?” Gabriel asked. “I know you want pancakes, Steve. What about you Dean? What do you want on your pancakes?” 

Dean gave him a look that seemed to indicate that ‘Fuck Off and Die’ was his favorite topping. 

“You strike me as a blueberry kind of guy,” Gabriel ventured, not so much as flinching in the face of Dean’s glare. 

Dean turned to Castiel. “You seriously live with this asshole?”

“He’s normally… quieter,” Castiel said. “Slightly…” 

Gabriel shrugged and made his way to the kitchen, digging out all the things he’d need for blueberry pancakes. 

He noticed his icing piping set, and idly wondered if he could fit “Sorry for Killing You 100ish Times” on the top of Dean’s pancakes. 

Gabriel decided that lying on pancakes was in bad form.


End file.
